


Think Of It Like (A Deleted Scene)

by Redlance



Category: Pitch Perfect (2012)
Genre: F/F, smut snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-23
Updated: 2013-06-23
Packaged: 2017-12-15 20:53:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/853934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redlance/pseuds/Redlance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And finally, something breaks. Low in her gut and high in her heart and suddenly, Beca's reaching out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Think Of It Like (A Deleted Scene)

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** Characters don't belong to me, I'm just having a little fun.
> 
> **A/N:** So this is actually a kind of... 'cut scene', I guess, from a fic I almost have finished. I decided that it doesn't really fit with the rest of the story, but figured it doesn't hurt to post it anyway. ;)

And finally, something breaks. Low in her gut and high in her heart and suddenly, Beca's reaching out. She grabs Chloe by the shoulders and spins the redhead so they're facing each other. Bright blue eyes are wide as they search her face. Beca's breathing is heavy and laboured, as though the sudden proximity of the other woman is suffocating her, but there's no panic. No uncertainty. Just a burning desire that's made her desperate.

 

"Beca, what-" She knows the question, doesn't need to wait for Chloe to finish it. It's the same one she'd asked herself about a thousand times during her drive over.

 

"I just..." she pauses, drags in a breath as her eyes flick down to drag their gaze across parted lips, "Chloe, I need..." Words have never been her strong point though and since there's no music, all she can do is act.

 

She pushes against Chloe's shoulders, hears the dull thud of the redhead's back hitting the wall as she forces her against it, and then there's no more space between them.

 

Chloe's mouth is hot against her own, stiff and unmoving from the shock, but Beca's tension is sifted from her as a noisy exhale as if the kiss is some sort of key to a lock she's been trying to open. And the sound seems to wake the taller woman, poised over Beca who tilts her head as Chloe finally moves. And doesn't pull away.

 

Her tongue slips into Beca's mouth without warning, pulling a sound of surprise from the brunette but she recovers quickly, the hands holding Chloe against the wall sliding down to fist in her shirt.

 

Warmth seeps into Beca from everywhere as she pushes forward and up, threatening to overheat her as their tongues meet and meld and scrape teeth in their haste. It's everything she's come to realise she wants.

 

And all at once, it's not enough.

 

Chloe's fingers sink into her hair and Beca's eyes roll behind their lids as she combs it back, nails scraping lightly at the base of her neck as Beca's teeth catch a full lip and tug. Chloe breaks the kiss at that, a gasping moan ripping itself free from her throat as Beca's kisses map their way across it. Her head lolls back to rest against the wall and Beca feels the fingers in her hair tighten when she reaches the spot where her earlobe meets the side of her jaw.

 

Feels her heart hammering. Body thrumming.

 

Feels wetness flood her as she takes the lobe into her mouth and feels Chloe buck at the contact.

 

She wonders it Chloe feels it too. The heady dizziness, body vibrating with desire, the **hunger** that comes with never having enough.

 

Her hand flattens against Chloe's chest. Finds firm flesh beneath clothing and gropes blindly, like an over-excited teenager. It's not a bad comparison. Chloe's moan is breathy and breezes by Beca's ear.

 

And it's like she suddenly sees red. Blinding and all-consuming

 

Her hands fall away only to push up through layers of clothing, seeking skin and finding it warm and smooth. Her mouth breaks away from its place at Chloe's neck and Beca pants into her shoulder as her fingers dance over her torso.

 

The drift up, skirt the edge of a covered breast and drift back down. Chloe's chest is heaving and for a second, Beca rests her palm against a breast and just... feels. Then Chloe's own comes up, covering Beca's over the shirt and prompting her to squeeze, and she's gone again.

 

She lifts her head to bring their lips back together, licking into Chloe's mouth with a kind of slow torture that she's surprised she's capable of this far gone. Chloe moans again, long and low, and this time the shifting of her hips is deliberate. Beca's heart stutters as she feels it, the slow rock and downward press against the front of her thigh. Looking for friction, and there's only one reason for that. The notion drifts over her like lava, burning her even though she can **feel** how wet she is. And all conscious thought slip into the fog with a whimper.

 

Beca grabs at her hips, pulling her close as she presses forward and slips a leg between Chloe's. Their kiss pauses, just for a moment, and Beca can almost feel the redhead thinking as they breathe into one another's mouths. Then there comes another slow, deliberate rock, like Chloe's testing her out, and the sound she lets loose makes Beca think that the result is pretty fucking good.

 

Chloe's never been one for hiding. Everything about her is bright and vivid and unapologetic. So there's little need for pretence; she rocks slowly once, then twice, and then she's grinding. Pressing hard against Beca's thigh as their mouths move together and Beca's hands grip her hips.

 

Briefly, Beca wonders about the wall. If it can take this kind of abuse, but then Chloe's fingers are slipping beneath the neck of her shirt and her nails and sinking into the skin of her shoulders even though Beca's sure they can't her any closer. Chloe's rocking becomes frantic, like she can't get enough either and Beca's fingertips dip below the hem of her jeans. Chloe's hips jerk out of rhythm, their kiss pauses once more, and it's like she's **waiting**.

 

It's all Beca needs.

 

She finds the button of the jeans and clumsily thumbs it open to draw the zipper down. Chloe's rocking stops and Beca pulls back from the kiss. She wants to open her eyes, wants to look at Chloe and make sure. But they won't open.

 

It's a good thing that Chloe's always known her best.

 

"Beca..." her voice is soft, pleading, as though Beca could refuse her, "Please." And her wrist is gripped, pushed down until her fingers brush the elastic of her underwear and drift by. Then there's a dampness that she almost knows and a heat that makes her **ache** and the grip on her forearm is tight, but no longer pushing.

 

Beca's fingers slip against wet skin experimentally, dancing through Chloe's desire in a way that makes the redhead's hips begin to shift once more. But now there's only Beca's hand to bear down on, and there comes that niggling feeling of "not enough" again.

 

Beca drops her head to rest against Chloe's shoulder and enjoys her moment spent just feeling. Enjoys it until something starts to tug and pull at her. She wants more. She wants everything.

 

She slips inside with a single finger first, unsure, cautious. But the way Chloe cries out and bucks, hard, against her is all the encouragement she needs to add another. And it's too tight with the jeans still on and Beca's sure things will be better when she can get them off, but for right now she'll make do.

 

Chloe seems to be enjoying the tightness anyway.

 

She's panting into Beca's ear, breaths matching the rhythm of her hips, and it's all Beca can do to hold on. To not lose herself completely and fuck her with total wild abandon. That will come later, she wants to remember this.

 

Awkwardly, she slides her fingers out enough that Chloe will feel it when they sink back in, deeper, and the redhead gasps and clings to Beca like she'll fall if she lets go. All Beca can do is move. Move and feel and think about nothing but the moment. The way Chloe feels, around her, against her, rocking into her thrusts like she can't get Beca deep enough. Beca's lips absently brush her neck and the thought grips her before she even hears Chloe's intake of breath.

 

Her teeth graze the skin before they bear down, sucking the flesh too hard In a way that makes Chloe's hips buck harshly. Beca's tongue slips out to ease the burn before she repeats the action, over and over until she's sure a mark has been left.

 

And that's when Chloe starts to tremble. Real, full-bodied shakes that throw off the motion of her hips and Beca's insides roll in a way that's almost too pleasant. She turns her thrusts quick and deep, curling her fingers as she pulls out. Chloe pants her name into her ear, spurring her on and making her feel like her head will explode

 

Chloe's rocking turns to a mindless grind and Beca feels the heel of her palm brush against her clit whenever she slides back in. She has a moment of power-hungry madness, one that sees her almost stop in an effort to draw it out, but she can't hold onto it. Not with Chloe's shaking form so close, clenching around Beca's fingers. So instead of pulling back, she pushes on, an urgent need for Chloe to know what she wants prompting her to murmur "come for me" into the redhead's ear. It isn't needed, but the reaction is instantaneous.

 

Chloe's hand slips from her arm down to Beca's wrist again and holds her still, holds her close, inside.

 

Her hips jerk out of sync and Beca keeps curling her fingers almost lazily inside her, then the shaking abruptly stops. Fingernails sink into her wrist and Beca knows she'll have little crescent moon prints there come morning, but she doesn't care. Kind of welcomes them. She pulls back to watch as Chloe's mouth falls open and her hips pick up their pace for a few heartbeats, thrusting against her hand.

 

And it's kind of... amazing. Watching Chloe fall apart right in front of her. Feeling the way she clenches and releases, drawing it out as she holds Beca close.

 

The way she gets wetter, impossibly so, right before she's tipped over with a final thrust of slender fingers and another mumbled curse.


End file.
